


all those flames that burn for him

by sadonsundays



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Infidelity, M/M, No IW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:25:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadonsundays/pseuds/sadonsundays
Summary: Peter’s heart kicks, anxious and hungry.





	all those flames that burn for him

**Author's Note:**

> title by gaga

Tony and Pepper’s engagement party is beautiful and elegant. 

It’s being held on the top floor of some skyscraper overlooking the entirety of New York City. Golden chandeliers glitter and white lilies lined with candles decorate the tables.

Peter feels so out of place. 

He wants to go home immediately. 

He’s not going to cry. He’s not. He’s always frustrated when people refer to him as a kid so losing his temper now would only justify how they define him. 

He needs to be gracious.

He tries to hold his head high. 

“Peter,” Pepper greets him, smiling in the most sincere way. 

“Miss Potts,” he responds, immediately sick to his stomach when he spots the gigantic diamond ring on her thin finger.

“I’m so happy you came, Tony will be pleased.”

Peter hears him before he sees him, and when he spots him, he nearly loses his breath. 

“I heard my name!”

Tony looks absolutely delicious. He’s dressed head to toe in a clearly customized black suit. Peter follows the tabloids, knows Tony’s latest designer of choice is Tom Ford.

And can Mr. Ford make a suit. 

“M-Mr. Stark,” Peter says, overeager and loud in the space between the three of them.

Tony clasps a hand on his shoulder, nearly devouring it under his size. Peter feels a faint blush bloom along his cheekbones and silently thanks the universe that a flush doesn’t easily show in his face. 

Other places, however…

“There’s my spider, come to join the celebration!”

Tony and Pepper both smile at him as he nods, feeling antsy and skittish and so deranged he could claw his own eyes out. 

There’s an inferno bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. He can control it for now, but it’s only a matter of time before it erupts. 

He smiles, hiding under his big doe eyes and gorgeous set of teeth.

“I’m glad to be here—“ He lies, falling back on his natural charm.

“Isn’t it lovely?” Pepper asks. 

“Yes, of course, I was going to say congratulations—“

“Pepper! Oh my gosh,” a pretty young woman in pale pink strolls over, waving, “come over here and let me see that ring—“

Pepper gives them an apologetic look, mouthing ‘be right back’ as she steps away. 

Tony looks after her with a smirk. 

“She won’t be back,” he says, “that friend of hers? Yeah. She couldn’t stop talking if she tried.”

Peter laughs, but it sounds fake and terrible. 

Tony glances at him, frowning. 

“Something on your mind, Parker?”

The audacity.   
Peter doesn’t know how to respond. 

They’re surrounded by people, everyone’s here— Steve, Natasha, Rhodey—the whole team. Peter hears a booming laugh across the room and can’t mistake it for anyone but Thor. He’s so exhausted. 

All he wants is to fall into Tony’s arms.

“Pete?” It’s said much softer now, with much more concern. 

Peter looks at him, forces himself to look him in the eyes. 

His heart beats so hard he wonders if it’ll break any more than it already has. 

Tony’s hand grips his elbow, solid and grounding. 

“Talk to me,” he urges, “what do you need?”

Peter’s on the verge of a panic attack and Tony can tell. He just wants to drown out the noise. He finds himself saying the silliest thing he can to someone who he looks up to—practically worships—

“I need a drink.”

Tony’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair. “Oh?”

Peter shrugs, looking around to make sure no one else heard. 

Tony takes a sip of his own drink. Peter assumes it’s some sort of ridiculously expensive champagne and suddenly, he wants—

He’s so good, all the time. He graduated at the top of his class, got into an Ivy League college, loves his aunt deeply, and lays out criminals in his spare time. 

The only bad thing he’s ever done is fall for someone unavailable.

His head aches. 

His heart is on the verge of an attack.

He wants to let loose.

Tony gives him a look, barely a glance, But Peter knows he gets it. He always gets it.

He leans in, speaking low, “Alright, kid. I’ve got to scmooze for a bit. But meet me by the elevator in 30. Okay?”

Peter nods enthusiastically, perking up inside like a sunflower at the beginning of summer.

“Okay.”

The time passes by quickly. Dr. Banner joins him near the food table, congratulating him on his MIT acceptance. Peter’s thrilled, both by being acknowledged by Dr. Banner and getting to spend time in his actual presence. 

Dr. Banner and Tony video chat regularly when Peter’s in the lab, but seeing him in person is so much better. He’s a longtime idol of Peter’s and a genuinely fascinating person. 

Peter nearly forgets about meeting Tony until he walks right by them, pinching Peter’s elbow in the process. 

“Oh, shoot—Dr. Banner, I’ll be back—“

Bruce waves him off with an easy smile. “Go on, I know that man doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Not even 20 minutes later and Peter is sufficiently buzzed. He wasn’t sure if he could even get tipsy so this is a pleasant surprise.

Turns out that Tony owns a floor in this building, because of course he does, and he’s taken them up to it. They’re in the living room, sitting on the floor of all places. 

“Won’t your suit get wrinkled?” Peter had asked. 

Tony laughed, shooting him a silly grin. “Whatever will I do if it does?”

Peter grinned. “Suffer, I’m sure.”

They’ve settled into a comfortable silence, Peter leaning his head back against the sofa staring up at the ceiling. 

“Congratulations, by the way,” he mumbles after a moment, realizing he hasn’t actually said it yet. 

He turns his head, gazing over at Tony. 

His eyes are closed, hands clasped together over his lower abdomen. He looks so peaceful. 

Peter rubs his hand along his hip, wanting so badly to reach out and touch him but he knows he shouldn’t, knows he can’t—

“Thanks Pete—“ Tony responds, opening his eyes and looking over at him with a lazy grin. 

Peter takes a deep breath, opening his mouth then closing it. He tilts his head back again, it suddenly feels too heavy to hold up.

Tony sighs. 

“But you don’t have to pretend, kid. I...I know you’re not happy about it,” he whispers. “And I’m sorry.”

Peter bites his bottom lip hard, curling one of his hands into a fist at his side. “Please don’t.”

“Even if we could—“

“Tony, please stop.”

“Baby—“

Peter twists, looking at him and feeling like someone just punched him in the gut. 

“You can’t call me that—“

Tony brings a hand up to his own face, gripping his jaw.

“You’re right. M’sorry,” he mumbles, “I think, I’m— a little more tipsy than I thought—“

“Really, Tony? Come on.” 

Tony looks at him, blatantly eyeing him up and down.

“Also doesn’t help that you look so fucking good tonight—“ he groans into his hand, biting down on the skin. 

Peter’s heart kicks, anxious and hungry. 

“I do?” Peter breathes, conflicted arousal rising in his belly. 

They said they weren’t going to do this. 

They promised it wouldn’t happen again. 

Peter catches Tony watching his mouth. 

He takes a sip of his $300 champagne, letting some drip down on his lip.

He pouts his lips, feeling reckless and dangerous. “Tony?”

Tony moves closer, breathing heavier. “Peter.”

Peter goes to him, gravitating like a mouth to a flame, climbing into his lap. 

“We can’t,” Tony says, pressing his nose into Peter’s neck and inhaling, “I’m taking advantage—“

“Don’t care,” Peter’s already panting into Tony’s hair, so hard in his skin-tight dress pants. 

“I’m getting married—I—“

“No one has to know,” Peter leans down, pressing his lips against Tony’s, “I won’t tell—“

He bites Tony’s lip, tugging it between his own. 

Tony’s hips shoot up, hands sliding around to grip Peter’s ass hard. 

“Fuck, I want you so much,” Peter moans, biting Tony’s neck as he’s guided by big, calloused hands back and forth in his lap. 

“Baby, baby I—“

Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck, humping him like a pillow from his bunk bed in the middle of the night. 

“Give it to me—I wana take it—“

Tony slaps his ass, hard enough it echoes throughout the room.

“You gonna take it?”

“I’d take it—so—deep—“ Peter gasps, punctuating each word with a dirty grind on top of Tony’s clothed dick.

“I know baby—“

Tony’s hand comes to his waistband, fingers brushing against his hard cock. He whimpers when Tony presses his hand down, moving to hide his face in the warm crook of Tony’s neck. 

Tony doesn’t pull his cock out, just rubbing and teasing him to the point of frustration. Peter bites down on his neck, retaliating.

“Someone’s fiesty,” Tony mutters, smile in his voice. 

“Don’t play with me,” Peter replies, defiant.

“Ah ah,” Tony says, grabbing his ass in two handfuls, “you don’t call the shots here, sweetheart. I do. Now ride my cock.”

Several muscles in Peter’s thighs twitch and he wishes his body wouldn’t betray him like this but he can’t complain when he feels so good. 

He begins to move, spurred on by Tony’s whispered, dirty encouragements of, “that’s it”, “just like that”, “look so fucking good, baby—“  
It’s not sex but it might as well be. 

Peter moves up and down, back and forth—leaking in his underwear as his cock drags against Tony’s.

His heart’s about to burst, he’s dying to know— “Does she ride you like me?”

Tony lets out a pained cry, wrapping his arms tight around Peter’s waist. Peter mirrors the movement but around Tony’s shoulders, bringing them as close together as he can. 

“Does she?” He asks again, small and insecure in the moist crevice of Tony’s neck. 

“No—baby, no,” he’s rubbing his hands up and down Peter’s back, soothing and calm despite how frenzied Peter’s movements have become. 

He brings a hand to the back of Peter’s head, resting it there gently. Lips touch Peter’s earlobe, biting softly.

“Look at me,” Tony whispers.

Peter lifts his head, feeling woozy and weakened with lust. He has no restraint as he bucks against Tony’s toned abs. He craves the friction, isn’t even appalled when a slither of drool leaks out of the side of his mouth from the slick glide inside his underwear.

“Jesus,” Tony mutters, leaning forward to lick the moisture away, “you’re so desperate for my cock.”

He kisses Peter then, tender and delicate despite surging up and against him.

“Mr.—Mr. Stark,” Peter whines; voice an octave higher than usual. 

He dips his tongue into Tony’s mouth, craving this connection deemed the most intimate of all.

“I love you,” he confesses when they break apart, foreheads together, “don’t— Tony please don’t do it—“

His thoughts from earlier echo—

He’s not going to cry. He’s not.

Tony looks up at him, eyes desperate and shining, tells him, “I love you Pete—baby, come for me—“

Peter digs his nails into Tony’s dress shirt, hard enough he’s sure he’ll leave behind bruises.

Tony nudges a fingertip in between the crease of his cheeks, and even through the fabric Peter feels the heat of him—

“Wish I could come inside you—“

“Oh god—I’m gonna—I’m—“ his swollen cock, already wet, spurts inside his briefs, creating a sticky and wet mess. Peter drags it against Tony’s strong body, shivering from the aftershocks.

Tony’s tightens his grip around Peter’s body even more, planting his feet on the floor for leverage as he flips them over.

Once he has Peter pinned to the ground, arms above his head, he latches on to his neck as Peter wraps his legs around his middle. 

Tony bites down, hard, and Peter cries out so loud he’s afraid for a moment that someone heard him.

“You’re okay,” Tony pants against the wet, sore skin, licking at the throbbing mark.

“I’ve got you—“ he grinds down into Peter’s hips, moving into him so forcefully Peter feels he’ll melt into the floor.

“Fuck—“ Peter grunts, traces of arousal still making him tremble, “come on, come in your fucking— suit—“ 

He arches into him, leaning up and capturing Tony’s lips in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Gonna come—“

“Do it, Tony, get off on me—“

“Yeah…I’m coming—ahh—“

Tony groans, long and low and pained as he crushes his hips into Peter’s one last time. He’s breathing like he just outran the Mandarin—sweaty along his hairline.

Peter’s panting too, heart fluttering restlessly behind its’ cage of ribs. 

He kisses Tony’s forehead, bringing his hands down from above to wrap around him in a hug. 

The guilt starts to set in almost immediately, and Peter can feel when Tony tenses in his arms.

He wishes he could stop time, wishes they could stay together, sleep together, live a full life of love with all abandon— 

Tony kisses his neck, his jawline, his top lip— groaning as he moves to get up. 

Peter's raw heart rests in his throat.

The full severity of the situation hasn’t set in with either of them yet but it will. Surely as the sun will rise they’ll both walk away in shame. 

Peter will only be sure of two things when that happens.

That Tony will regret what they did.

And that he won’t. 

He finds himself staring at Tony’s beautiful suit as he gets up—all wrinkled now. 

He can’t bear to watch as he walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> purely self-indulgent trash.


End file.
